


Shrouded

by Xekstrin



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 12:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: As kind as she is, Yang sometimes comes across as oblivious.But that's not quite right, is it?





	Shrouded

**Author's Note:**

> Written for one of my patrons on Patreon.

 

The rain fell down in heavy gray sheets, so thick she could barely see further than the length of her palm. Clouds black as burning smoke... and fog on top of rain. It never made sense to her that rain didn't wash away the impurity in the air.

More than gloomy weather, it put her on edge because it dampened her sense of hearing. She was used to relying on her ears more than her eyes. With the ribbon locked tightly on top of her head, it became twice as hard to navigate the world.

She felt blind.

She didn't like it.

"Hey!"

A tap on the small of her back made her stand up straighter, spine going rigid with fear. As always half her mind was preoccupied with her ears. Don't twitch, don't betray. Once she schooled herself to be as neutral as possible, she intoned back. "Hey, Yang."

"Well don't sound so happy to see me."

Yang slid beside her, the smile on her face making it clear she wasn't offended. As always Blake had to bite down the instinct to explain it, that it wasn't personal, that it was just who she had to be now.

It was hard to remember a time when she just allowed herself to  _feel_. Everything came through that heavy curtain of self control, the layers she hid behind.

With a click and woosh of fabric, Yang unfurled a large umbrella and offered her arm.

"Need a lift home?"

Blake relaxed a fraction, without meaning to. Yang always had a way of melting her down. Anyone who knew her well would be hard-pressed to describe Yang as "laid-back"-- the anger issues, the hair-trigger temper, the wicked sense of humor all made obstacles to navigate around.

But there was something very calming about her, too.

Blake linked arms with her, allowing herself to lean against Yang's shoulder and sigh in relief. "Yes, please."

"I don't like getting wet, either."

Emotional intelligence was not Blake's strong suit, and she was constantly mystified by how Yang could find something to talk about with just about anyone she met. When her eyes didn't bleed red, she was remarkably skilled at getting people to trust her, to talk to her, to like her.

At the same time, she knew to respect the silence that Blake cherished. Not another word was exchanged between them, but at the same time, she felt like they'd just had a long, warm conversation.

They walked from the library to their dorm rooms. Shaking the umbrella off, Yang opened the door and strode in. Her boots got kicked off to a corner, and before Blake locked the door she was already stripping.

"Ughhh, everything is so soggy," Yang whined, shaking her hair free of her shirt collar. She balled it between two fists and tossed it into the laundry basket before rummaging around for a sweater.

They were all accustomed to a certain amount of nudity; you don't sleep in the same space without eventually getting lax about how dressed you were. Still Blake kept her eyes averted until she was sure Yang had finished getting changed.

"Need a jacket?"

"I'm not cold." She smiled. "And I'm not wet either, thanks for sharing the umbrella."

"Anytime!" Yang flopped onto Blake's bunk, grabbed one of her books, and began reading.

She wondered how Yang would navigate through the world if her senses were as sharp as Blake's, if she knew how she rubbed up against everything she owned until it smelled like her. At night Blake would fall asleep in her own bed, nose pressed to the pillows, and her scent would be so close she could pretend they were together.

Clearing her throat, she worked again to keep her ears from betraying her. At least until...

"Hey," Yang said, eyes still focused on the borrowed page. "You know you can relax too, right? I'll keep the door locked."

The idea was pretty foreign, she had to admit. Even in her sleep, she kept on guard, dozing rather than sleeping. Every stray sound woke her, more now that she knew she could sleep without the ribbons.

After a moment of hesitation, Blake undid the binding on her ears. When the black silk slipped free, the world was put into sharp relief again. She could hear everything, even over the downpour outside.

She closed her eyes, listening for it. For the sound she missed.

Yang’s heartbeat thumped, slow and steady.

"Now get over here.” She peeked at Blake over the edge of her book, grinning impishly. "You say you're not cold, but you're shiv-er-ing!"

"...Okay. Okay." Blake shook her head, pocketing the ribbon and curling up next to her. "You know... You're more perceptive than you let on."

Yang tucked an arm around her, pulling Blake close. "I'll take that as a compliment."


End file.
